The Wolf and The Raven
by GossamerCorset
Summary: He would go through days finding himself stepping back into the darkness, as though he was pushed off a cliff into the depths of depression by his own conflict of thoughts, but Lucille was always there to grab him by his hands before he fell, reassuring him that she would never let him go. "If you ever fall, Remus, imagine me as the sea, and fall into me".
1. Chapter 2

Remus awoke to the sound of thunder. He turned expecting to see the bed beside him occupied but the bed was gone, and so was its occupant. He frowned, wondering if yesterday was a dream. He looked around and noticed the bed had been transformed back into the green sofa, now propped nearby a coffee table. He searched for those long black curls and dark brown eyes and found her standing by the tent entrance, peeking out from the flaps. He got off the bed to join her, huskily greeting her.

"We need to go," she said, not looking up at him, still fixated on whatever it was she was looking at outside. "We have to move now, Remus. I usually don't stay long in one place, and it has been four days now. I didn't want to apparate us when you were healing because I was afraid you'd splinch. But we need to go now."

"I will help pack up," He said, running his hand through his ruffled hair. Both of them gathered their wands and pointed them at various objects, shrinking and folding them all into a small black backpack that sat in the center of the tent. The objects moved around as though they were carried by invisible hands and all disappeared into the backpack until they were left standing in an empty tent.

"Right, it's a really bad storm out there so we need to move quick once we pack up the tent. Stay close to me," Her tone was heavy with worry and he did not question it although the concern appeared in his face. The tent was finally packed, and they stood in the rain, hands holding onto one another. She pulled him into an embrace, gripping his shoulder hard as though in fear of being pulled apart. "Hold onto me," She whispered to him, both feeling the hard drops of rain on their face. When the second thunder rumbled, they were both gone.

o

He took in his surrounding when they appeared before a porch with large oak doors. There were no other houses around the area, only a vast field. She nodded at him, asking him to keep a look out. She inhaled sharply, and although he never heard her mutter any spells, he heard the door unlock and she dragged him through them with her, closing them back again with her wand.

"I just need to grab a few things before we go again. We're running low on supplies. Poppy, I'm home," She said, and in the large house her voice echoed off the walls. A familiar house elf appeared in an instant, bowing down to her mistress. Lucille passed her a list of items she needed, and Poppy excitedly scurried away to collect them.

Remus walked around the large living room, observing the many paintings on the walls and heavy velvet curtains that were drawn. He could tell the house could only belong to a wealthy family and he wondered how she had gone from having a house which probably had over 30 rooms to constantly living in a tent and always on the move.

"We can't stay here. I've thought about it before, but the risk is too much for us. I only come back to fuel up supplies, which I really shouldn't be doing often but you need to heal, and we haven't got much," She explained with such an anxiousness and scanned around the living room expecting someone to appear.

"Why are you on the move, Lucille?" She sighed, uncomfortable that she had to explain herself to him. She never liked having to explain herself of her secrets and so she told him only bits and pieces of what she felt would be enough for him to understand. "Death Eaters are trying to recruit me, and some other people. I want no part in this war. I'm a healer, and I value my solitude. But it's the Death Eaters I'm trying to avoid. They're very persistent, you see. It's quite annoying, really. I've been on the move for a month until I came across you. Poppy says they drop by here sometimes, to see if I'm back."

She crossed her arms across her chest, gripping on her wand tightly. She didn't like being too long in the house, and Poppy was taking longer than usual that it made her uneasy. Moony stirred in Remus. The wolf had heard a sound like soft footsteps from the second floor. He walked towards the stairs, hand steady with his wand. "Remus, wha-" He shushed her with a finger on his lips, eyes darting towards the stairs. She looked around them, sweat forming on her forehead.

The footsteps were louder now, and they became noisier, like the sound of someone sprinting. Remus shot red sparks from his wand as he heard the noise come closer to where they stood. A green light missed him by inches from the stairs. Lucille casted a spell that froze the stairs with slippery ice. The source of the unforgivable curse fell and slipped down the stairs. A figure with white blonde hair landed smack on the floor. "Draco!" A woman's voice shouted as she too slipped beside the fallen figure.

Lucille felt her breath hitch. Remus was pointing his wand at their attackers and she grabbed his hand, fleeing with him. He turned around to stun them, but she had charmed a defensive silver bubble around them that blocked his spells and their attacker's. The woman chased after them, attempting to burst the bubble. Remus felt himself as though forced through a rubber tube as they apparated again.

o

They were now at a flat. The passing train outside made the cabinets rattle and by the fireplace Poppy appeared, handing Lucille the items she requested. Lucille pulled her into a tight embrace. The house elf was so small it looked like she was holding a child. "Did they hurt you?" She asked, checking her tiny arms and legs.

"No Miss, Poppy is sorry! Poppy was out at the nursery looking for the things Miss asked for, but the nursery was destroyed, Miss! Poppy had to go look elsewhere for them and when she returned Poppy couldn't find Miss and Mister. Poppy only saw the Malfoys and so Poppy went to hide at Mister Rotheremere's house!" She squealed, eyes teary feeling that she had failed her mistress.

Lucille smiled and wiped away her tears with her hands. "It's sad to know the nursery is destroyed. Mother grew all her love there – the plants, the herbs, our potions. But you've done well, Poppy. You've done what I asked, and I am glad you're alright. Here, Poppy, take this. This will calm your nerves," She handed a small vial containing a purple liquid in it to the house elf who took it from her with trembling hands. "Go to uncle now and be safe." She kissed her forehead, smiling at the disappearing elf.

Remus had never seen a witch or wizard showing that much affection for their house elf before. It was strange, to see her in such a manner. _If she was like this with a house elf, what would she be like with a werewolf?_ He wondered. He felt Moony stir, hungry with curiosity. The only people who were ever kind to him despite knowing his condition were his friends. It has been years since he felt the warmth and tenderness of a woman's touch, and to see her in such loving light for a creature deemed beneath them in the wizarding world, Moony was beginning to grow fonder of her. He swallowed, trying to push away the thoughts of her from his mind.

"Remus, did you hear me?" She called out to him, alerting him that he had lingered too long on his own thoughts. His eyes snapped back at her, confused. "Remus, I said that this flat is heavily warded and in a muggle area. We can do magic here, but it is best kept at very minimal levels in case someone tracks us."

She moved to the kitchen with him behind her. "How long can we stay here?" He asked, inspecting the space. There was a fridge, with a kitchen stove and the flat looked completely furnished in such muggle taste with everyday objects. She filled a kettle with water, bringing it to the stove to boil.

"We're lucky this time. My uncle has arranged for us to stay here for at least 2 weeks or more, if we can keep our profiles low. The Death Eaters are not aware of this place – yet" She sighed, eyes transfixed on the flames under the kettle. He could see she was tired and wondered how long she had been on the run for. They were quiet for minutes, him looking at her as she gazed into the flames, captivated by them and buried under her thoughts. The dark circles were pronounced under her eyes, Remus wanted nothing more to hold her, to soothe her as how she had done to Poppy earlier. She rubbed the back of her neck, stretching it. "You still have some healing to do. Go shower, and we'll start," she rummaged through the black backpack she carried, summoning vials and bottles that jumped out of the bag onto the dining table.

There was only one room in the flat, which had a king size bed and a bathroom. Shelves of books lined the walls of the bedroom. The walls bore no paintings or ornaments, only a large long mirror in the bathroom that was well equipped with a bathtub and a shower head. He removed his clothes, turning on the tap to fill the tub, remembering that he had to use only minimal magic while in the flat. Remus stepped into the lukewarm water, groaning as he rested his head on the bathtub. Sighing, he felt his aching muscles relax.

He heard a knock on the door and her voice calling out at him asking for permission to enter. He filled the tub with as much bubbles as he could, attempting to hide his privates from her view when the door opened. She had changed out of her previous clothes and now wore a black sleeveless tunic. She had a small stool with her which she placed next to the tub, the other hand holding a small bowl filled to the brim with an orange paste. As she sat, he noticed a picture of a snake coiled around a dagger on the back of her right arm. "Is that a tattoo?" He asked, surprised. It was very rare to find wizards or witches bearing tattoos made by muggles. The Dark Mark itself was enchanted, and Remus remembered the marks Sirius Black had on his chest from Azkaban, they were all magic.

"Must be strange, to see a pureblood decorated with muggle art," She chuckled. "They use these tiny needles that continuously poke on your skin, very painful, but relieving. At least for me." She smiled sadly at him, and her smile carried her secrets with her, secrets he wanted to know but was too afraid to ask and invade her privacy for he too, had his own secrets but he was sure she had already known them when she was the one who healed him. "Remus you really don't need to cover yourself, you'll finish the shower gel with this rate. I've seen you anyway, remember, I found you," She grinned, eyeing his flushed face.

"My scars, you must've seen them. They're not a pretty sight," He could not look at her. Perhaps it was easier when he was unconscious, and she had taken sight of his naked body, and now that he was aware it made him self-conscious with embarrassment. He was never proud of his scars, they were a constant reminder of his nature, of the heavy hate he had for it, for himself. He flinched when he felt her hand on his shoulders.

"Scars? I don't see scars, Remus, I only see you," She smiled at him, once again igniting the adoring flames he had for her. He chuckled, finally looking up at her. He thought he saw a tint of amber in them but ignored it, perhaps he had mistaken. "I need the bath water to do the healing. This will sting once you're submerged, it will not take long, seeing as you're progressing. I hope today's the last day we have to do this," She patted the orange paste on his neck, leg and chest, emptying the bowl. He felt a surge of heat shoot from the spots where she rubbed. "I need you to go under the water," She said softly, eyes reassuring him.

He submerged himself, eyes closed. She ran her wand above the water, enchanting it. He felt that heat turn to cold, as though he had been thrown into an icy lake. She pulled him up by his shoulders, his body shivering. "Good, you're doing well," Lucille passed him a towel and headed out of the bathroom to prepare for dinner.

 _Get a hold of yourself Moony_ , he snarled as he watched her leave. Her words still rang in his mind _I only see you,_ stirring the wolf inside him with desire.

o

The aroma of oregano and tomatoes filled the flat as he approached the dining table. "Pasta night, Remus. I must say I quite enjoy this whole muggle procedure of cooking." She settled two plates of spaghetti across each other on the table, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing again with cups of water. Remus seated himself across her, feeling awkward. It felt too surreal, as though they were a married couple occupying the muggle flat, dressed in muggle clothes, dining like muggles. She was unusually comfortable around him, despite knowing he was a werewolf. Half of him thought _maybe she actually doesn't know_. They ate quietly, the only sounds of forks scraping the plate and glasses being put down on the wooden table.

He needed to ask her. They have been together for almost a week, and he anticipated longer, seeing as how she was on the run and he, although he knew he was healing well, he had to leave her one day to return to the Order. He balled his fists under the table, agitated thinking that he had to leave her. There was something about her that he felt he could not let go of. Perhaps it was her warmth, the scent of the forest in her hair, her toothy smile, her dark brown eyes that always looked like they hid painful secrets beneath. It was _all of her_ that he had come to know for only two days, his hyper awareness of how she moved, how her breathing paced whenever she was anxious, how she squeezed her eyebrows together whenever she was in deep concentration, it all drove him and Moony to the depths of desire. Perhaps it was because it has been _so long_ since he paid much attention to any other woman in his life that he was feeling this way. Whatever it was, he wanted to be sure of what she knew and didn't know about him, so he plucked every fiber of Gryffindor courage to ask her, "When you found me, did you know?"

She looked up from her food at him, licking the bits of tomato sauce on her lips. He did not ask her twice. "Yes. I'm well acquainted with knowledge on Werewolves, and even knew one in person myself. Your wounds, the old ones, they sort of give them away. I'm too familiar with the patterns." She took a sip from her glass, returning her attention back to her food.

"Who was it? The person you knew," His hands were still under the table, a flicker of amber in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it, Remus, I'm sorry," She removed herself from the chair, bringing her plate and glass to the kitchen. He was intruding now, and she did not want to open the doors to her past for him. She did not want to open them for anyone.

 _Idiot_ , he cursed himself and followed her with his plate and glass, apologizing. "I didn't mean to intrude, it's just, well, you're quite composed for someone who knows what I am. Most of them, they just… run, or act completely uncomfortable around me, or tolerate me just enough until they withdraw themselves from me. I do understand, though," He leaned against the fridge, watching her squeeze the sponge and scrubbing the plates in the sink. She remained quiet, so he continued, "Lucille, you know I am not the safest person to tag along adventures with. I appreciate all that you've done for me, I don't know how I can ever repay you, but, as you say so yourself, I am healing, and when I heal completely, I'm afraid I must go. This war… I'm a part of it."

She raised an eyebrow at him and sighed. "Do you ever stop feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Lucille -", She interrupted him, "If you want to go off to fight in a war you think will change how people perceive you, then please, go ahead. You almost died once, and from the looks of your wounds, I suppose many times before. But you are brave, a soldier, so you grab the bull by the horns and continue to ride it. Tell me, how can you have so much courage to throw yourself into a war just to see the world change but not how you feel about yourself?"

He swallowed, hard. The last time any woman ever gave him a speech about how he lacked in self-confidence was Lily Potter. And then he lost her. The amber in his eyes grew like a flame. Moony was howling, the memories of Lily pained him. He approached her slowly, eyes locked on hers. "Do you think I enjoy hating myself like this? Do you think I purposely push people away? It has not been easy, growing up alone, constantly reminded every bloody full moon of what I am, what I am doomed for, what my life will always be. Locked up like an animal once a month, waking up to blood and flesh – my own – the next day. You find peace in your solitude, but my solitude has only brought me misery, pain, I could only find comfort in my books. People I love died under Voldemort's hands. I lost their warmth, their tenderness. This war is all I have."

A tear left her eye, slowly she brought a hand to his jaw, her fingers ghosted over his cheek. He breathed heavily under her touch, engulfed in the warmth of her palms. "I lived my life surrounded by people. People who were so trapped under so much pain, I had to go into the dark to find them and pull them out. But many times, I'm unsuccessful. You were the first person I managed to heal under such a fatal condition and I cannot let you go off to a war. _Please, stay_."

He closed the space between them and kissed the top of her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he around her waist. They remained like that in each other's embrace, until he brought his lips to hers and softly, kissed her. She returned with the same pace, and soon their kisses grew with intensity, as though the moment was going to end, as though one would leave before the other soon enough.

He parted her mouth with his tongue, tasting herbs and ripened tomato. Her hands grasped on his hair, encouraging him. He carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. The lovers roamed each other's bodies with their hands, kneading as though they would mold into one another. Their clothes littered on the floor, each thrust and moan echoed off the dark blue walls. He said her name as though he was so accustomed to it, breathing into her ear as she moaned against his shoulder. He would always remember her like this, with the forest in her hair and their sweat like a river that ran down their bodies, merging into one another. They were nearing the edge of surrender, and the closer he was to it the more frantic his thrusts became and the deeper her nails clawed into his back, giving him new scars that this time, he would be proud of and happy to see, to remember. With one final push he felt her clamp against him, her velvet walls pulsating. She shuddered underneath him and as his release came following hers, he rested his head beside her, bodies slick with desire on top of one another.

His breathing soon steadied, and he cupped her face, mesmerized by her rosy flushed cheeks and dark eyelids satisfied. She raised her head to kiss him and smiled. They did not speak and feared that words would ruin the moment. His sweat dripped down her chest, mixing with hers, and travelled down to her navel. He was a river, running, into her arms that was the sea.


	2. Chapter 3

It had been almost three weeks now. They were both still living in the flat, barely using any magic lest they be detected. He was fully healed by the ninth day but he hesitated to leave her, even though he knew he had to return to the Order. He attempted to devise ways to contact the Order but with Lucille's paranoia, it was difficult. He had asked her to send Poppy for him to pass his message on but she refused, insisting that Poppy would play no part in conveying messages for anyone who was neither her nor her uncle. _I need to protect her_ , she argued.

Their relationship included nights of love making and days spent reading. Neither tried to expand on their relationship, content with accepting it as it is: two people running away from the war and taking in comfort with each other for all the losses they had their whole lives. But he could not run away any longer. He was a fighter, a dedicated soldier for the Order. He needed to fulfil his mission and the longer he delayed the more he became aware that his selfish greed to keep her with him will only end with the deaths of many.

They would never talk about the war anymore, instead their conversations shifted to magical theories and history. It was that one fateful night when he was awoken by a bright white, translucent dog shifting by the bed. He followed the dog to the living room where it looked at him, urging him to come closer. _Remus_ , the dog spoke in Sirius' voice. _I know you are still alive. Dumbledore orders you to return, you must come back my dear friend. I fear it is grave time, we need you. The Order needs you. Harry needs you. I need you._ With its final message the patronus disappeared.

"Where we lay, our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say, lamentings heard in the air, strange screams of death," He turned around to see her lean against the sofa, her silk black robe hugging her naked figure.

"I have to go, it is time" He said.

"I know." She replied.

He gripped her sides, his nose stroking along her collar, her neck, wanting to remember her scent, the feel of her skin, the glow of her eyes in the moonlight. He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the drag of her curly strands. He peppered kisses along her chest, disrobing her. "I will miss you," He whispered, eyes searching hers for the same pain he felt of having to leave her. "I will return," He said, kissing her.

"I won't be here," She replied, hands buried in his scalp. He grunted as he felt her tug at his hair, his arms settled her on the dining table.

"Then I will find you. I will always find you," He assured her, eyes fixed onto hers. He wanted to see his reflection in them, to remember that she would always see him this way, in throes of passion and admiration for her.

"Then I will let you find me," She gasped as he pushed inside her, her insides welcoming him like a home he belonged in.

That night, it was not Moony who made love to her as every other night. It was Remus.

 _The night has been unruly. Where we lay,_

 _Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say,_

 _Lamentings heard in the air,_

 _Strange screams of death,_

 _And prophesying with accents terrible_

 _Of dire combustion and confused events_

 _New hatched to the woeful time._

 _The obscure bird clamoured the livelong night._

 _Some say the Earth was feverous and did shake._

 _Macbeth, Act 2 Scene 3_

o

Six months and twenty five days. He had not seen her, heard her, or even tried to find her for that long. The Order placed him on Advance Guard duty and numerous other postings that kept him constantly occupied. He had been involved with escorting Harry Potter back to Hogwarts, and now lived with Sirius Black in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He was on constant duty, monitoring Death Eaters. He tried to recall her scent many nights but the memory, in the midst of his focus on the missions were blurred out, as though buried at the back of his head.

"Can you please stop pacing around, like a dog chasing its tale Remus? You're giving me a headache," Sirius was nursing a firewhisky in the library, amused as he watched his irritated friend pace back and forth.

"The full moon's coming. You know how it is, Sirius. I'm going mad. Moony keeps calling for her, and I haven't the faintest idea where she is, I can't even recall her voice, what did her hair smell like? I knew I shouldn't have given in to my desires. It's really not helping us at all," He growled as he sat transfixed at the crackling fireplace. He had told Sirius of Lucille, to which his friend had responded with a cheerful hug and excitement when he heard the fondness Remus spoke of her.

"Have you tried contacting her?" He asked, filling up another glass with the burning liquor for his friend.

"Contact her? Hell, I don't even know how to find her to begin with. She has a house elf, Poppy, I may be able to track her from that elf, but I haven't engineered a plan yet," He ran his hands through his hair, sighing deeply. "I've been so busy. These missions… they have been taxing on me." He felt a sharp pain in his chest from the wounds he collected in fights that ensued during his mission with the Death Eaters.

"I can ask Kreacher to find her for you," Sirius offered as he held out the glass to the worried man who emptied it with a single gulp. Remus nodded at him and signalled for a refill.

Sirius called out to his family house elf with instructions to which Kreacher mumbled curses under his breath, not enjoying at all to be commanded around by him. Remus stared into the fire, _have I gone mad,_ he thought, as he saw dark brown eyes in the flame, starring back at him with the same sadness and mysteries he never managed to uncover.

o

Four months and fifteen days. She had not heard from him, never tried to find him, nor did she think of him. She had been off the radar until she recognized the approaching blonde woman by the shore. Lucille could have run to the tent, ready to pack up and disappear – again. But she remained fixed on the shore, allowing the figure to approach her. Perhaps it was because the woman did not have her wand pointed at Lucille, or that her eyes were bloodshot red, or that she was alone, that did not drive her to flee.

The woman now stood a few feet from her, her voice that was usually cold and clear shattered, like she had been crying for days. "You need to see him, Lucille. _Please_ ," There was that desperation in her voice that Lucille hated to hear come out of all people, from _her._ On any other day that woman was extremely proud, haughty and disdainful but now, she seemed like any other sad worried mother.

"And after that, what? Will you make me stay again? Is Lucius going to send Greyback to threaten me if I refuse again? I must say, I have quite enjoyed my travels. It has brought me back to places my mother was so fond of, places untouched by your Dark Lord," Narcissa grabbed her hands, shaking.

"He is only a _boy,_ Lucille. He wakes up at night _screaming,_ we have tried to obliviate the memories that disturb him but at the rate of torture and deaths he sees every day, it will only damage him further. You _must_ see him. I will tell Lucius to stop the threats, I will call them off but you _must_ see him." She pleaded as tears formed in her blue eyes. Lucille would've enjoyed this view of her, begging and putting aside her pride and lose her composure, but she could not bring herself to bask in it. She knew all too well that Narcissa's heart was breaking, she had seen it before in her own mother. So she silently agreed and packed up her tent this time not for another destination filled with memories of happiness, but instead, for a place where only darkness dwelled and wherein light could never be found.

o

"Really, Cissy, you bring back _her?_ Her, Cissy, really?" Bellatrix spat at the sight before her. Her brother, Rabastan sneered.

"She is here for Draco," replied the Malfoy matriarch in her usual voice. She had regained her composure before they left the beach, Lucille had given her a soothing potion. Bellatrix attempted to argue, entirely disapproving of their guest.

"Unless you're any good at healing people than killing them, Bella, I suggest you tend to him then," Lucille remarked coldly. She was not pleased to be back at the Malfoy Manor, and most of all to be greeted by the Lestrange upon arrival. She would rather face a Hungarian Horntail than them.

Bellatrix had her wand out flinging curses at Lucille who shot back at her. Rabastan joined in, it was not a fair fight, two against one, but the Lestrange were never fair. Lucille managed to shove Bellatrix into a chair and out from her wand conjured a snake that wrapped itself around Rabastan's neck, choking him. "STOP!" Commanded Narcissa Malfoy, burning off the snake from Rabastan's neck and halting a sprinting Bellatrix. "You are in my house. You are all guests here, and you will show respect for this Manor, for my family," She held her head high, displaying herself as the one in charge as her husband lurked from behind. Lucius' wand was taken by Voldemort weeks before, leaving him powerless.

She ushered Lucille to Draco's room, smiling at her son who stood by the window. She sweetly said his name, stroking his shoulder and kissed the top of his forehead. "Lucille is here for you," She signalled for Lucille to come closer.

"Didn't you run last time you were here? I didn't even get to see you," Draco replied coldly and he frowned at her.

"I did, and then your mother found me again. She's very adamant to see you heal, Draco." Lucille pursed her lips, her thumb scratching her index finger. It was a trait she did whenever she was anxious.

"I don't need healing," he seethed and moved away from the two women, hands in his pockets.

"Draco, _please_ ," There was that soft desperate plea again in Narcissa's voice. "It's just for the dreams to stop, you've barely slept for days and if he finds out you've been – not well – it will not be safe for you, my dear Draco," She walked to him, holding his hands. He looked at her and was softened by that love she always had for him expressed in her face, the softness of it. An expression that was not afforded to many, only to him and his father.

"I'll do it on one condition. She stays in the room opposite me, and I never want her to mess with my head. Your job is to make the dreams go away, and that is final," He shot Lucille a glare, daring her to object but she did not. She only nodded her head, lips still pursed and thumb still scraping her index finger so roughly that she drew blood from it.

 _And again, into the darkness I will dwell._

o

Fourth months and twenty-eight days. She heard him scream for many nights, thrashing around the bed. She tried to subdue the dreams that haunted him – the voices, the torture of the dead. She attempted to replace his dreams when he slept with her own memories, of starry night skies and crashing waves. It had only helped for a while, just to stop the screaming until she found him biting on his own tongue, blood on his pillow, sheets drenched in sweat. She had tried to slap him awake, having failed to replace his horrific dreams with one of her own memories. He had only punched her in her chest as a response, almost grabbing his wand to hex her until she pinned him down to the bed and tossed his wand to the floor.

"Draco, they're gone, Draco, they are no longer here," She shushed him, hands still pinned to his wrists. He struggled against her grasp, grey eyes shot up in a warning at hers. He kicked her chest with his knee and pushed her off him. She lunged at him and grabbed him by his chest. She had pulled him into an embrace, her arms locked around him from behind. He struggled again, but the warmth of her mouth against his cheek stopped him. She tried to reassure him with soothing words, arms never leaving his chest. She felt him whimper beneath her and heard him sob.

When she was sure he would not retaliate, she released him, urging him to lie down which he obeyed, eyes closed tight with tears still streamed down his pale skin. She summoned a towel soaked in water to wipe off the blood from his stained cheeks and casted a scouring charm on his pillow and sheets. When he had calmed down, she got up to return to her chambers but his hand held onto her wrist. His eyes pleaded at her, the same plea she had seen in too many souls, asking for that warmth of light she could only give in the dark, hollow world they had come to know. She laid on the bed beside him and he wrapped his arms around her, sighing as he inhaled her scent. Together, they slept, a healer and the wounded.

o

Five months and two days. She had been requesting to let her see through his memories, to identify the ones that left him traumatised so she could help him better. He refused, as predicted. She was persistent and he felt many times he wanted to kill her for daring to invade his most precious mind but could never bring himself to it.

The nights where his screams echoed throughout the manor had stopped. She did not share a bed with him since the last night that she did. Perhaps it was the lingering scent of hers that marked his pillow that gave way to a peaceful slumber. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew now of her childhood memories, having seen and lived through them in his sleep, watching on from a third person's perspective of the little girl in curly black hair giggle when her father twisted her nose in a playful manner, or how she attempted to climb a tree and was begged to come down by a house elf. Memories he barely had, of love and warmth, in a world filled with light.

She was never present whenever the Dark Lord visited the Manor, nor when the other Death Eaters were around. She always locked herself up in her chambers, fear that she would start another brawl as the one when she first arrived. Sometimes she was summoned, to mend broken bones and close up gashing wounds, which she obliged, although with hesitation towards tending those whose injuries came from attempts of torture and murder innocents.

He was nursing a headache in his father's study when he heard a soft knock on the door. _Merlin, does she ever stop_ , he thought, agitated. She was like his shadow that followed him around, reminding him constantly of her duties as his healer.

"I need to see them, Draco," She said without having to elaborate further, for it was the same request she always made every single damn day whenever she caught sight of him.

"The dreams have stopped, Lucille, you can damn well leave me alone now. I'd even go as far as to say you've completed your duties and may very well damn leave this Manor," He seethed, his headache growing.

"They will come back, if I was so sure that my work here is done, I would've packed up the instant. But no, I'm still here, because you're so bloody stubborn and if I don't fix what I'm sent to do, your mother will bloody chase after me again and I'd really like for once, to stay in my own damn house without having to worry about you lot coming after me," She responded with the same anger, arms crossed across her chest.

"Tell me, once you see, what will you do then? Obliviate it out?" He asked with a frown.

"No, obliviating you many times will only fry out your brains. I need to see it and then sort out what makes you so unnerved about it." Her thumb was scraping her finger again, and he could tell at the rate she has been scraping them for the past days she has been living in the Manor, she might just skin her fingers off.

"I thought I made it clear you are not to mess with my mind," He hissed as he poured himself a glass of water. She remained fixated on the ground, biting on the insides of her cheek. "One damn peek, Lucille. One damn peek and you get the hell out," He finally gave in, wanting her to leave him the hell alone.

She nodded and quickly whipped out her wand, "You better not block me out Draco. I swear if you hex me when I'm inside your mind, I will not hesitate to break your bones," She warned, amber glinted in her eyes.

He smirked, hands by his side. "Ready when you are."

He permitted her entrance as soon as she casted the legilimency spell on him. She saw a figure laid down on the floor, writhing breathlessly, another figure hunched above her, repeatedly torturing her with the Cruciatus curse. Draco stood nearby the tortured girl, his hands shaking. Lucille could feel his emotions, of anger, regret, as though he too felt the victim's pain. Empathy. A trait Lucille thought never existed among the Malfoys. She then felt as though pushed over a cliff as she fell, out of the memory.

"Enough!" He bellowed, his shaking hands wrapped around a bottle of his father's firewhisky and he chugged it forcefully. His back was turned to her and he breathed heavily.

"Who was she, Draco? Why is the memory of her hurting you so much?" She asked.

"She's nobody, just a filfthy mud -" he stopped himself, choking on another gulp from the bottle.

"You can't even bring yourself to say the word that used to roll out your family's tongue like a simple greeting," He turned around, his face readable with anger.

"I showed you. Now, you make it stop." He slammed the bottle on the table, daring her to object.

"I can't, Draco. This is about how you feel. If you cannot accept the feelings you felt, or harboured for her, and to see her be tortured like that under your own roof, by your own aunt, and did nothing to stop it, you can never heal," He flung the bottle at her and missed by inches as it shattered against the wall behind her.

"I have no feelings for her!" He almost yelled and walked towards Lucille, eyes bloodshot red. She gripped her wand on her side, ready to defend lest he attack her. His nails dug into her arms, "You need to make it stop. You said you would make it stop," He choked back hot angry tears.

"I can mend broken bones and bleeding chests in days, Draco, but this, _this_ takes _time_. Time which neither of us have with this war going on," Her voice did not lose its control. "You need to come to terms with what happened, Draco. Seek her out, and apologize, then maybe you will find peace with yourself."

He rested his forehead against hers and cried. "I… I can't even face her."

She gently stroked his back, not knowing what else to say. _Love, it will be the death of him,_ she thought quietly.

o

Seven months and seven days. Kreacher did not report back with any good, uplifting news and whenever he came back to the house, he only bore the same usual headline. "Her house elf has not heard from her yet". It was driving Remus insane. His last transformation hurt more than others. Moony was impatient, he needed to see Lucille again, to feel her, to smell her, to taste her. The werewolf rattled the doors and banged against the walls, howling for its mate. The next full moon would come soon, and Remus was not looking forward to spending another night trying to battle with the werewolf in his head. The injuries he sustained from his transformations were becoming worse. Moony had taken to biting off his own body, tearing at his skin more than before. He felt that if this kept on he might one day end up killing himself. _I need to find her, or else we'll both die without her_.

It was the night before the full moon, he was preparing to lock himself up in the cellar of a cottage located nearby an almost empty, quiet town. He usually locked himself up in the mornings, but this time he wanted to be alone. Moony was becoming more aggressive and he did not feel it was safe to expose people around him this time. He heard a soft tap by the window when he looked up from a book he was reading, trying to muffle out Moony's growls with the words that bounced off the papers. An owl peeked at him, an envelope in its mouth. He took it and scanned through the contents quickly.

 _Dear Moony,_

 _Kreacher finally came through. She was spotted leaving Wiltshire. He conveyed your message to her and it seems she understood. I have told her where she might find you (in the most discreet way possible). She's quite a looker, Moony, you lucky fool. I expect a ring on her finger when I see you two next._

 _Yours,_

 _S._

He closed his eyes. _Finally_ , he thought. He would again feel her embrace, her touch, that was sure to drive him up the wall – until reality hit him. _It's almost the full moon, Sirius, you git, what were you thinking! She can't come now!_ He panicked at the very thought and imagined what it would be like if she appeared during his transformation. _If Moony soon as smells her, he'll break every single one of my bones to get out of the cellar_. He tried to reason with himself, that since she knew about werewolves she would be smart to know she shouldn't be coming to see him until the morning after tomorrow. _Yes, she's smart. She should know, she ought to know_ , he repeated to himself, trying to ease his worries.

He opened the cellar, walked down and sadly sighed. _Just you and me, Moony you old dog_.

o

Agonizing pain. He knew it all too well, but each time it was never easy. Moony howled, gnawing at his own body. His teeth punctured through his leg, blood oozing out. He paced around the cellar, throwing himself against the walls, grunting and howling. Remus tried to make him stop but he knew it was useless to reason with the beast. As long as he does not break the wards of the cellar, he would let Moony do as he pleased – although what he really wanted was to run through the woods, free. Freedom. He never knew what the word really meant, never lived it.

As Moony howled and clawed on the floor, leaving long scratch marks, he had to let him tire himself out, but Sirius' letter only made Moony anxious. _Sleep, you damn wolf,_ he heard himself yell at the beast, both of them attempting to conquer one another, his mind raging like a war. Remus knew wars all too well, his whole life was one. When Moony finally gave in to slumber, the smell of blood lingered around the cellar. Remus hoped he would awake to see the wounds gone, and he hoped the person who would help make them disappear would be her – the healer.

Morning light poured into the cottage. She lifted the cellar doors and inhaled the scent of blood – his blood. She looked upon the figure of the man resting on the cold cemented floor, his naked body red with bite marks and scratches. She lifted him up and carried him into the light with her, out of the darkness, where he spent his whole life in.

o

Her scent. Her familiar scent. It had awoken him with a smile. _She is home now with me_. He tried to get up but grunted, the sharp pain in his chest stopped him. Her figure approached him, her face and hair basked in the glory of the sunlight. _An angel sent for me_ , he thought, his hand reaching out to feel her.

She took his palm and kissed him there deeply, her mouth stretched into a wide smile. "Have I died and gone to Heaven, O sweet angel?" He said with a grin.

"Yes, here is the key, come and go as you please," She laughed and kissed him deeply.

Moony purred and finally relaxed under her touch. Again, with her, he felt that peace that had so long left him months ago when they were last together. All his worries washed away, all the suffering and carnage of war that haunted him left him behind, and he felt pure, cleansed, as though baptized in her embrace.


	3. Chapter 4

Their meetings only occurred during the full moon, as it was agreed. She had refused to join the Order, and although he had insisted that she be recruited for her protection, she had almost hexed him. He attempted to reason with her, that she would do more good in service of the Light with her position as a skilled fighter and healer, but she argued that it was not her war. _Wars do not bring back the dead_ , she had exclaimed one night in bitterness.

 _But they honor them_ , he had responded as he slammed his fist on the table, adamant on recruiting her or to defend himself whenever she objected to his involvement in the war. She would always apparate away whenever she felt the argument was pointless, they would leave each other in heats of fury, convinced that each one was right and the other wrong. He never knew where she went on other nights, and every time he pondered on the thought of it she would distract him with hot kisses and gentle touches. _Secrets_ , she had too many of them.

He was battling against Rabastan Lestrange with Sirius beside him that one night. Sirius shot curses from his wand with great excitement, it had been long since he played any direct involvement on the battle field for the Order and he enjoyed every single moment of it. He heard Sirius laugh when his curse had struck Rabastan, proud of his achievement. He remembered turning around to praise his friend, until the sight of a sprinting Fenrir Greyback caught his attention and he felt that familiar hatred boil in him, alive like a fresh flame that spread from the pits of his stomach to his heart.

He tried to chase after Greyback, every bone in his body ached to kill him. Sirius had followed him, encouraging him on as he understood the look of fury in Remus' eyes that now had lost its green and were covered in amber – _Moony_. They came to a narrow path, Remus shouted for Greyback, throwing unforgivable curses. A cruciatus had hit its intended target and toppled him. Sirius praised Remus, "Get on with it, Moony!" He had yelled at Remus.

Moony was ready to kill, Remus' hand firmly gripped his wand, ready to do the deed, until he was distracted by a green light that shot past him and hit Sirius in the chest. He turned to look at his friend, whose handsome face was struck with that dreaded pain. _No, No, Sirius! Sirius!_ He heard himself shout and as he ran to him, he felt large hands strike his face. Greyback flung himself into Remus, his sharp nails clawed at Remus' back.

He collapsed, his head had banged onto the edge of a marble statue, and he felt the world spin black around him. _Wars do not bring back the dead_ , he heard her say and all he could see as his eyes slowly dropped, was Sirius' smiling face.

o

"He is recruiting darker creatures, we need to infiltrate. Do what you must, Remus." Minerva McGonagall's message echoed through her patronus. Remus sat in the chair of the dingy apartment he had hid himself away in, hands trembling. It had been a whole month since Sirius' death, a whole month of suppressed pain and solitude accompanied by cries that Remus tried to shush with bottles of firewhisky. Remus had attempted to throw himself into every battle imaginable, posting himself on the front lines. He had stopped communicating with Lucille, avoiding her in every way possible. When Poppy appeared before him on one confusing night, informing him that her Mistress had asked for him, Remus was submerged in liquor and it took him a while to notice the house elf in front of him. He remembered screaming at her to leave, she squeaked and disappeared.

He never saw her again after that. He did not care. All he could think about was Sirius. Those grey eyes never left him. He woke up and slept to them every night, the guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. _If I hadn't gone after Greyback_ … _If I had protected him better… If I had not given in to my hate…._ he wondered of the what ifs and what could have been, each day as he lived he was reminded that for each day, Sirius was dead. So, he tried to die. He tried to die each and every day with the war, and McGonagall's message only deepened his desire and gave way for that bigger risk he would gladly take with open arms.

It was his mission now, to infiltrate the werewolves, to live among them, and among these foul, vicious dark creatures perhaps he will find a home – a home to die in. After all, he never really valued his life, and with Sirius gone, what more was there to him but a beast?

o

She knew of Sirius Black's death. Bellatrix had announced it giddily in the Manor and toasted herself to her victory. Lucille was often called upon the Manor – no, she was _summoned –_ by Draco Malfoy. He had grown accustomed to her presence, and as he was the only child he never knew of a sibling's love, so he had taken to Lucille like an elder sister. She was eight years older than him. At the age of sixteen he was a Death Eater, and he had witnessed more deaths than any of his peers. Lucille was the only one who offered him comfort, aside from his mother. She did not expect from him, as the many expectations that came from his family. She was the only one who knew of his darkest desire – a bushy haired know-it-all girl.

He found her in the garden, tending the carnations. "You're wasting your time," He remarked. She looked up, confused. "Those flowers aren't going to add any warmth to this place. This house has been tainted with too much blood."

She smiled at him, "I remember when you were just a child. Our mothers were good friends then. I conjured Herbifors on your father once, remember? His hair just burst into flowers! Maybe that's why he never liked me," She laughed, and he followed. The memory had been so long buried in his mind that Draco had forgotten there were moments of actual happiness in his life – happiness that did not revolve around pride and glory.

The Shafiq family were once close to the Malfoys. They were purebloods, but when tragedy struck Lucille's family, they had been declared outcasts. Shut off from the pureblood families, Lucille did not have friends. She didn't go to school, and her mother had taken to tutoring her, passing on her knowledge as a Healer. Lucille was often fascinated by muggles and their lifestyle. Since she was disconnected from the wizarding world, she often observed muggles and their peculiar habits and toys. From there, she knew how to turn on a washing machine, operate a stove and even enjoyed muggle art and literature.

"Aunt Bella seems to be in a very good mood," He said, arms folded with a cringe on his face. Lucille ignored him and returned her attention to her carnations. "Lucille, what were you doing with Remus Lupin at the Shafiq house?" She did not respond and pretended as though she did not hear him. "Lucille, are you helping _them_?" Still, she did not respond. "Lucille, you need to be careful. If _he_ finds out, he'll _kill you_ " He lowered his voice, and grabbed her wrist when she refused to meet his gaze.

She finally looked at him, eyes stern. "I'm not helping anyone. Besides, with what Bella has done, I don't expect I'll see much of him anymore anyway." He let go of her wrist and understood the tone in her voice. It was the same tone he had whenever he spoke of the person he was most fond of – fear that shook with the regretful pain of unspoken words.

o

"Oi, pass the firewhisky will ye? Ye not the only one planning to obliviate his thoughts tonight," He flashed a grin at Remus, a tooth missing in his smile. The man toasted his glass at Remus', his wicked eyes glinted with amber. "Any time now, lad. We wolves are going to rule those wizard sods to kiss our hairy mangy feet," He chucked loudly, drunk and pleased with the very thought.

Remus gave him a small smile and refilled the man's now empty glass. "No more living in the dark, ey?" He asked and raised his glass to the man.

The man nodded vigorously, "Nope, you'll see, it'll all change for us. Life will be better!"

Remus thanked the man for the drinks and insisted he had to leave the bar they were in to go home for his slumber. The man laughed, "Sleep! What good is sleep? The night is young! Come, howl with your brothers, for a new age is a comin! Cheers to Fenrir Greyback, no longer will we live in fear! No longer will we cower!" Remus stepped out of the bar on to the empty street and breathed in the cold air. The happy cheers that resonated from the bar filled the quiet night.

He stumbled as he walked to a small lit apartment and unlocked the doors. The man's words echoed in his mind. _Life will be better. No longer will we live in fear. No longer will we cower._ He ran his hands through his hair, his head spun as he attempted to focus his attention to the floor. It had been a month since he lived amongst the werewolves and was openly accepted into the community. He had lived a life of freedom in that time, surrounded by his equals. No one judged him, his brethren had accepted him as their own, an acceptance Remus did not know of from other wizards and witches, except for his own closest friends _who were now all dead_ , he thought bitterly. He had run with the werewolves along the forest, watched them as they hunted, though he had never participated in the hunts. Some nights as he watched them rip off the flesh of young wizards and witches, he felt Moony stir, he could see him salivate at the temptation to join in, but he could never push himself to do it. No, he was _too human_. So, he buried the scent of the dead with heavy bouts of drinking to give way for a deep slumber.

He shifted to his bedside cabinet and rummaged through its content until he found what he needed – a potion for dreamless sleep. Although the liquor would distract him enough, he found that some nights they only made his dreams worse. He could see them all – James, Lily, Sirius – in his sleep, tonight he did not want to. Tonight, he wanted to see the world spin until it all faded to black, until there was nothing but a pounding headache the next day. He un-bottled the potion, swirling its purple liquid. He was ready to take a sip until he heard a subtle _pop_ in his living room.

He growled and pushed back the stopper into the potion bottle. Lumos, he muttered, the white light flashed from the tip of his wand as he scanned the living room for his intruder. He thought he saw _her_ stare before him, but his mind was too hazy with intoxication he could not make out if it really was her, until he heard her voice say his name in that familiar, smooth voice that he would've chased horizons for. He lowered his wand and forgot for a moment who he was, an Order spy in the werewolf army, and viciously caught her lips, breathlessly kissing her. _Love now, ask questions later_ , he had thought to himself, pinning her against a wall. She did not protest, giving back with the same intense ferocity. He heard himself shout her name echo in the dark and released her as he gasped for air.

He picked up her clothes, handed them to her and slid on his trousers. He did not look at her, eyes avoided her as he leaned back on a sofa, his chest rising rapidly. "This is all a dream," He muttered with eyes closed. He heard her move but still refused to open his eyes. _This is all a dream_ , he repeated. He felt cold palms cup his face and ran along his cheek, stroking his hair. He moaned at the touch, his arms stretched out and gripped on her hips. He brought her to his lap and she straddled him. Still, he did not open his eyes. She called out to him and he ignored it. _This is all a dream_ , he again said. He felt warm tears trickle down his cheek, his own, and he swallowed.

 _Come back to me,_ she said, he could feel her fingers tremble around his neck. _Please,_ she begged, he heard her sniffle and his eyes finally shot up to look at her crying face. A scar ran along her jaw and he caressed it and felt the bumps of raised skin.

 _I can't, I have a mission_ , he said. Their tears fell, like salty raindrops on their skin.

There was it, again, that anger in her face, the same one she always had whenever they talked about the war. _Your mission is to die,_ she seethed, tears still slipped down her jaw.

 _You do not want me_ , he softly replied and missed her touch when her hands released their grasp from his neck.

 _Yes, I do, more than you could ever want yourself,_ she got off him, he closed his eyes again. She looked at him in hurt and anger and disappeared with a faint _pop_. _This is all a dream_ , he whispered and dragged himself to his bed, the scent of the forest – her scent – lingered on his skin.

o

He stood at the back of the crowd, hidden in view and watched the alpha of the werewolf army spread his propaganda. _No longer will we be rejected by society! No more fear! No more hiding in the dark! Our age is near!_ He shouted, exciting the pack as they cheered. Remus frowned when he saw a familiar lock of black curls appear next to Greyback, her hood covered her face. In the shadows of her hood, he saw ferocious amber eyes stare back at the crowd. Greyback and the woman moved from the crowd as they applauded and howled. He followed them, careful to not be seen by the alpha. He neared the woman who walked behind Greyback, and quickly he flipped his wand to slip her hood so that he could see her. _It cannot be_ , he thought, _this is all a dream._ She glanced back at him with those ferocious ambers but quickly looked away. Lucille Shafiq was a werewolf.


	4. Chapter 5

He found her in his apartment waiting for him. They had last seen each other two weeks ago, and he felt his breath hitch at the sight of her. A wave of emotions crept upon him like the tides that pulled against the shore. "What the hell are you doing here?" He snarled and looked at her with eyes that pierced like daggers. "Have you been playing me for a fool, Lucille? Have you been with _them_ this whole time? Are you serving You-Know-Who!? Answer me!"

"That's what you want to know most of all now? _Really_ , _that_?" She scoffed, "You really are a soldier for the Light, aren't you?"

His anger grew even more, he grabbed his wand and pointed it at her throat. "Don't toy with me woman! Are you with them or not!?"

She shot him a cold stare, "I am no one's servant except yours, Remus." His wand hand shook at her words. "You always spoke about how you're devoted to this war, so I thought I'd see what's the big fuss about, but I am not with them for the reasons you think of."

"Did Greyback turn you?" He said as he lowered his wand, his voice barely a whisper.

She laughed as though he had told her a joke. "Do you really think I'd let him turn me without searing his face off?" She backed away from him, her lips in a sad smile. She did not feel that she would like to recap the origins of her condition. She had attempted to block out the memories that were too gruesome for her to recall. But she owed him an explanation, although she hated owing anyone anything. "I have been like this for a long time now, my love. Haven't you been paying attention to me enough to see through me and know the truth?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away from him, her fingers dug into her skin. "My family, they're purebloods, we are part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. We were once very close to the Malfoys. When the Dark Lord tried to recruit my father to join the Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy tried to convince my father, but he refused. You don't refuse the Dark Lord, he should've known that. I was only twelve, when Greyback turned my father. Gone was the man I knew, whose nose was always buried in a book," She chuckled lightly, "He spent nights buried in alcohol and locked himself up in his room. My mother, she was such a brilliant healer and tried _so hard_ to help him, but we couldn't. It was the morning of the blood moon when it happened, he managed to break the wards in his room, he hadn't transformed yet, but his humanity was slowly declining and my mother and I, we…" Her eyes trailed off the floor onto Remus' shocked face. "He wasn't himself, you know. I saw her flesh and skin torn apart before me. I ran, and he chased me. I felt his teeth and nails clawing my jaw." She touched the scar on her jaw and although it was already healed since the incident, she still felt the searing pain every day.

"I didn't know what else to do, and I had my wand, and I looked at him, and tried to find my father in him but I couldn't. So, I killed him," She closed her eyes and wept. She brought a hand to muffle out her cries, for she felt she would surely scream over the agony of the memories that broke out of the trunk she had hid them in the back of her head and thrown the key away.

He gasped, walked hurriedly to her and pulled her into his arms. They both cried, her for the pain, and him for an understanding of the pain. "Forgive me, Lucille," His voice hoarse and shaking. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me? I always knew you had pain, but you are always so reserved, so guarded of your secrets, how could I see that what you carried with you weighed so heavy?"

She cried in his arms, her palms locked on his shoulders. She wanted to remain there forever, to feel the warmth of his body in the darkness that they both walked in. "What would that have changed, Remus? Tell me, would you have not thrown yourself into Death's way then each and every day with this war? Do you think I don't know why you are with the werewolf army?" She withdrew herself from him and wiped away her tears with the back of her hands. "Sirius Black is dead. I have told you before, Remus, wars do not bring back the dead. So why do you want to die so badly?"

As intelligent of a man he is, she had posed him questions he dared not answer. He didn't know what to say. He bit on his cheek and closed his hands into a fist. He avoided her eyes and focused instead on how her chest rose and fell under her dark blue blouse. "I don't want to feel sorry for myself or for you Remus, for what makes us what we are. I can't. It's no way to live Remus, can't you see? You think you have nothing left but this war, you lost people you dearly love because of wars. Don't you think you have much to live for? Despite Moony, despite your hatred for what you are, what about us? Are we not worth fighting for, to live for?"

He finally found the courage to speak, resisting the urge to cup her lovely face as he tried to articulate himself. "If I had known... why didn't you have that much confidence in me? To trust me enough, to tell me. All my life, I have spent in fear of building any kind of relationship. James… Sirius … Harry… I have had such difficulty in keeping my secret from them. It took me a while to let them in. I would have done the same with you. I don't expect you to carry me. I know how hard it is to carry myself, each morning, each night… the transformations, you must know. The pain. The agony. To tell yourself this is how life must be, to be alone, and to love from afar… or to be too afraid to love at all." He closed in the space between them, having gathered much strength to cross the edges of fear of closeness between their proximity given how they were both vulnerable and volatile at the moment. "My only lack, well, to say _only_ would be a lie" She scoffed. "My lack…" He continued, "Is that I am far too old for you, and poor. I have no wealth to offer you, you need someone _whole_. Moony has taken a toll on my body, and my mind is just tired, _so tired_ , of this war."

His lips stretched into a small smile and daringly, his raised one hand to stroke her jaw. She did not flinch or move away at his touch, and so he became bolder, his strokes moved towards the side of her face, and her lips. "I have always marveled at you. You took care of me after many moons, so young but so brave and wise. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't delighted at how you returned my love for you. I basked in it like it was sunlight to my lonely Moony nights. But this war, it will never let us be at peace together. James, Lily, Sirius, I love them all, and I blame myself every day for not being there to protect them. I cannot be with you until I set things right with this war, with _them_."

"I am not a Death Eater," She said to him and kissed his rough fingers. "I told you before that I wanted no part in this war, but because you are _so stubborn_ and adamant on dying, I agreed to be in the Dark Lord's army. I will protect you from the other side, you have my word."

He pulled his hand away from her, surprised. "Lucille, this is not how it should be!".

"Then what would you have me do!? Sit back and watch you die!? No, Remus, you don't get to freely destroy our relationship just because it's more convenient for you to use Death as an excuse!" He leaned against the wall, unsure of what to say. He knew he could not change her mind, it was too late for that. He could offer her to the Order to hide for her own sake lest her betrayal be discovered by the Death Eaters and worst of all, Greyback. But he knew she would refuse. She was as stubborn as him, and also too smart to make a stupid decision.

She approached him cautiously and held out her hands which he gingerly took, their eyes locked on one another with that same intense lust that was always there. She planted her lips on his, and he gently kissed her. She pulled back, as though to say something, but did not. Her eyes looked at him as though posing a question, one which neither had ever dared to ask the other. He knew the answer would be dangerous at this point, but there was a war going on, and now that they were both in it together, he felt that it would be better to say it than never at all. "Yes, I love you Lucille," He said before he claimed her mouth once more and deepened their kiss.

He knew that she would leave after, and she knew that he would remember her, as he always had. Before she left, he whispered to her confessions of love, and she stood up and suddenly spoke, "Remus, show me your patronus".

"It doesn't carry a form, you know that," He stroked her chin and tilted her head to kiss her. She backed away and insisted.

"No, not until you show me what it really is. When the war comes, I will know where to find you from your patronus," She reasoned. He chuckled, he knew he could never refuse her.

 _Expecto patronum_ , he chanted as he waved his wand. A wolf appeared from it, walked to Lucille and bowed its head at her. She smiled at it and to him and waved her wand to cast a patronus as well. A raven flew past Remus and landed next to the wolf. "Now we will know how to find each other in the war." He watched as the wolf playfully chase after the raven as they disappeared into view.

He nodded and asked, "Now that you've seen it, am I allowed you kiss you now?" She smiled at him which he took as a _yes_ and held onto her waist. "I always think you of, and now in my happiest memories it will be of you. Thank you, because today was the first time I did not look at my patronus with so much hate, shame and anger as I always do." They held onto each other as dawn neared, and with a silent _pop_ she disappeared and left him missing her warmth in the empty space on his bed. _We must win this war_ , he thought to himself, daring to finally think of a future with her.

 _I gave thee mine before thou didst request it,_

 _And yet I would it were to give again._

 _But to be frank, and give it thee again_

 _And yet I wish but for the thing I have._

 _My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_

 _My love as deep. The more I give to thee,_

 _The more I have, for both are infinite._

 _Romeo & Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2_

o

"You need to be careful, there are eyes watching you," Draco leaned against her bedroom door, his expression worried. He knew where she had gone to last night, and knew very well that she did not appear at his manor's doorstep two weeks ago simply to join a war that she believed in. He had spent enough time with her to know her well enough that she never approved of wars, and a world governed by evil and pureblood fanatics were a far cry from what she supported. "Walk with me?"

She followed him to the garden where they sat nearby the carnations she had lovingly nurtured. He raised his head and looked around to see if they were followed. "We're going to break down Hogwarts soon, and this will all be over," He glowered. "I can't tell you how I've been wanting this to end so badly. Potter better damn well be the bloody _Chosen One_."

"And when it ends, what will you do about _her_?" He shot her a sad look, aware of who she was referring to.

"I don't know. Kiss her senselessly, probably, but she's always around that Weasel, I don't understand what she even sees in him," He snarled in anger as he thought about the two of them together. "She'll probably slap me though. I was never kind to her, I pretty much tortured her the whole time".

"You never had a choice, Draco," She comforted him, saddened by his past upbringing. "Be brave, you are not your father. You still have time to set things right".

Draco shifted on the bench, his face fell into a grimace. "When I was a child I wanted to be just like my father. I dressed like him, walked like him, I copied every minute detail of his being. Now, I'm so close to becoming him and I hate it". He pulled on the fabric of his trousers, his eyes bloodshot red.

She laid her hand on his and whispered softly to him, "You are far better than your father could have ever been, Draco, remember that". He eased at her touch and words and allowed a single tear to drop on the collars of his shirt. She stroked the edge of his eye and reassured him, "Be brave, Draco".

They sat together, hands in each other's, and gazed at the red carnations in silence. For Lucille, the red flowers reminded her of her deep bond with Remus, and for Draco, it reminded him of how deeply Hermione Granger must hate him after all the years of mistreatment and abuse she endured from him.

o

He had seen her rush with Potter and Weaselbee into the Room of Hidden Things and felt his heart drop at the sight of her. Crabbe, who he always thought of as a slow-witted fool was now being highly intolerable as he threw a Cruciatus curse at Potter, missing him.

Draco had warned him that the Dark Lord wants Potter alive, and Crabbe had pulled off an attitude that resembled mutiny. Draco was seething. This did not turn out as he had planned at all, and Crabbe's attempt on using the Avada Kedavra on Hermione angered him even more. He attempted to put a binding spell on Crabbe, to stop him from doing further harm but Crabbe had knocked Draco's wand off his hand when he tried to avoid Potter's Stunning Spell.

Wandless and terrified, having no control over his henchmen who he had appointed his bodyguards since he was a child, and who were now disobeying his orders, Draco cowered behind a three-legged wardrobe. He watched as Hermione stunned Goyle, his body falling hard on the floor and Lucille's words rang in his ears _Be brave, Draco._ He got up and noticed flames of abnormal size chase after the Golden Trio, turning at every corner they ran to, transforming into flaming dragons. He screamed as the flames swallowed whole their surroundings, Goyle unconscious beside him. He saw Potter approach them on a broom and struggled to reach for his reaching hands with his sweaty palms.

' _What are you doing, what are you doing? The door's that way!"_ He had screamed at Potter, bewildered. _You're going to kill us both!_ He panicked, as a flaming serpent lunged at them. Potter managed to catch the diadem and as they rushed past out of the Room of Requirement, they collided with the wall in the corridor beyond. Draco fell off the broom and laid face down. The smoke irritated his lungs. He coughed, retched and gasped. He saw Goyle beside Hermione, still unconscious. He then noticed Crabbe was missing and was harshly told by Ron that he was dead. Draco felt like vomiting.

He got up and frantically tried to search for a friendly, recognizable face to help him since he was wandless. A masked Death Eater caught him, Draco's voice croaked as he begged and stressed on how he was a Malfoy, supporter of the Dark Lord and not an enemy. The Death Eater raised his wand at him and as Draco cried for mercy, he saw a blue light strike the Death Eater in the chest, stunning him. He turned around to see a quick flash of bushy brown hair pass him and disappear. _Hermione_ , he whispered.

o

Remus was exhausted, but he knew he could not stop now. _Just a little more, Moony, you always wanted to have some fun, didn't you, old dog?_ He teased, shouting hexes at incoming Death Eaters. Hogwarts, once a heavily guarded school, was now flooded with dark creatures and Death Eaters. Students, Dumbledore's Army, teachers, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix fought bravely and relentlessly against Voldemort's army. Antonin Dolohov charged after him in their duel, Remus felt his body tire as he retaliated against Dolohov's spells. He ran and turned a corner at the stairs, his tracks stopped when he spotted a dementor approaching a group of young children. He summoned his patronus, the white, translucent wolf shot out of his wand and pounced on the dementor, its bright light bursting.

At the corner of his eye, he saw Dolohov approaching him, and as Remus turned around, he heard Dolohov yell _Avada Kedavra_ , and he would've been hit by the killing curse had it not been for the flying Raven that knocked Remus out of the way, avoiding the curse. He saw Lucille appear out of nowhere, her wand hand pointed towards Dolohov, disintegrating him.

She ran into Remus' open arms, kissing him. "How did you find me?" He breathed into her hair that smelled of smoke, dust and faint flowers and earth.

"Your wolf patronus, I saw it. I learned a lot from watching you and your Order members communicate with each other discreetly. I told you we'd find each other during the war this way, didn't I?" He beamed at her, pushing away her curls from her face as he kissed her.

"Love later, war now," She said seriously and grabbed him by his hands, running with him into the battling crowd. The fought alongside each other, him always watching her back, and she likewise. She saw Harry Potter rush past them, followed closely by a ginger haired boy and a brown-haired girl whom she instantly recognized as the girl in Draco's memory. Lucille struck a Death Eater who chased after the trio, setting his body aflame.

She heard a howl close by and turned to see Fenrir Greyback stare back at her murderously. "YOU TRAITOR!" He yelled at her. Remus and Lucille's eyes turned amber instantly at the sight of Greyback, the same scowl on their faces. Greyback charged towards Lucille, shouting violently at her. Remus tried to stun him but missed as he was faster than him. Lucille tried to shoot a Cruciatus curse at the werewolf but Greyback dodged quickly. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BLOOD TRAITOR!" He bellowed.

Lucille felt his heavy hands grasp tightly around her neck. She firmly gripped her wand and tried to muster every strength she had in her to cast a non-verbal spell, and her wand transformed a nearby rock into a dagger. _Accio_ , the dagger flew into her hand and she viciously stabbed Fenrir's eye with it. He yelled in agony, the pain caused him to release his grasp on her. She fell hard on the concrete floor, gasping for air. She heard Remus shout her name, his wand shot a spell that cut Greyback's leg. She got up and handed him the dagger, "Kill him," she snarled. He growled and looked down at the whimpering Greyback.

"With pleasure," He remarked, his voice deep and hoarse – _Moony_. He stood in front of Greyback, Lucille casted a binding spell that restrained Greyback's hands and bleeding legs, pushing him on his knees. Lucille lifted Greyback by his hair, exposing his neck out. " _Look at me_ ," Remus growled. Greyback looked into Remus' eyes, fear crippled over the alpha at his intense glare.

Remus raised the dagger high and pierced it through Greyback's neck, running the knife down from his throat to his chest. Blood splashed from the screaming werewolf and splattered against Remus' face and robe as he pulled out the knife from Greyback's navel. Remus tasted the blood of his victim, his face hot as his blood rushed through him. He heard Moony howl, satisfied. He looked up to see Lucille smiling at him. _She is not frightened by us_ , he heard Moony speak. She dropped Greyback's head, his dead body slumped on the rocky surface beneath.

She grabbed his face and kissed him, tasting Remus' sweat and Greyback's blood on her tongue. Their amber eyes glinted at each other. "Are you ready to have another go, Moony?" She smiled maliciously.

He grinned at her and bowed slightly as he stretched his hand out for her to take, "After you, ladies first". They charged at Voldemort's army whenever and wherever they found them, their wolves hungry after each kill for another one.

 _By love, that first did prompt me to inquire._

 _He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes._

 _I am no pilot. Yet, wert thou as far_

 _As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea,_

 _I would adventure for such merchandise._

 _Romeo & Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2_


	5. Chapter 6

Author's note:

Initially, Lucille's last name was Rothermere, as some of you may have noticed that her surname has been changed to Shafiq, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight in the _Pureblood Directory_. I changed it because I wanted her to have a backstory as a pureblood close to the Malfoys, since they would only consider purebloods to be worthy of companion. Then Lucille's family was cast off from the other wizarding families when her father was bitten by Greyback, thus being having their rank lowered as 'tainted blood'. The only family who did not appear in the books or in Pottermore are the Shafiq family, so hence the decision to change her surname.

I have tried to make Chapter 5 as canon as possible within regards to Draco and the Golden Trio at the Room of Requirement in Deathly Hallows. As you've noticed, I do ship Draco and Hermione, although it is problematic to disregard the abuse and mistreatment he inflicted on her for many years. In no way do I support the theory that him treating her badly was how boys show affection for girls they like. I would like to one day write about their relationship in another fanfic, given time.

Chapter 7 will be the last chapter, and I have immensely enjoyed writing every word of this story. I know Remus and Tonks are canon, but I always thought Remus deserved more and should have never died. It was heartbreaking to hear JK say that she created Teddy Lupin because in wars, there are orphans, just like how Harry was an orphan. To me, that just gives a notion that Tonks was a convenient love interest for Remus merely to create a tragedy of war for their son, which honestly wasn't fair. It also didn't help that she, an Auror, and supposedly a kick ass character, was losing her powers because Remus kept pushing her away from him. I expected a stronger female character. So, I wanted Remus to be able to accept himself with strength, with the help of someone who understood his condition, and not in the frantic desperation of self-hatred that he tried to find ways to die just to avoid Tonks as depicted in the books, becoming even worse when he found out she was pregnant. I also did not want Remus to love Lucille for the sake that she was quite like him, I wanted him to love her freely as he had always feared to love anyone.

Lucille was turned by her father when he was a werewolf in human form, and it is canon that when this happens, the victim does not undergo the same conditions as Remus went through, and they also don't transform. Which explains why Lucille was able to meet Remus after his transformations and heal him, since she did not undergo it as he did. Scars left behind by werewolves always remain, as in canon.

Remus in the book, was killed eventually by Dolohov, but I felt that he deserved revenge on Greyback. It was Greyback who turned him and made him go through hell because of it for many years, so it was only fitting for the gory and violence when Remus killed him. Poor boy didn't even have a chance in the books, and it was interesting to explore how he lived among the werewolves army, probably he felt _some_ weight lifted off him as he was surrounded by his kind. Remus and Lucille will not have a child in the last chapter. I want them to be together without the whole notion of having a nuclear family that would make Remus feel _normal_ in spite of their condition. I want them both to be in love as equals, and struggle together to uplift one another as Remus still needed time to get a hold over having a sense of self-esteem that he greatly lacked. Killing Greyback would help him, sort of like closure for what had happened to him and his family. And with his greatest, loving friends gone, Lucille could provide him the same support, and more.

I thank the reviewers and viewers, and I'll try my best to end this story nicely


	6. Chapter 7

_Harry Potter is dead!_ Lucille felt Remus' fingers tremble in her palms, his lips quivered as he watched Hagrid lower Harry Potter on the grass at Voldemort's command. Her throat burned, she tried to engineer ways for them both to escape in her head, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a sprinting Neville Longbottom, charging at Voldemort with his wand out. Wide eyed, she gasped as Voldemort set the Sorting Hat over his head and burst it into flames. Remus yelled and released his hand from hers and he ran to join in the charging crowd, his voice merging with their war cries. She shouted for him and followed, if he would die for Harry Potter then she would die for Remus, for them, for without Harry Potter _The Chosen One_ the future could not be theirs anymore.

She lost him in the chaos that ensued, desperately seeking out for him and felt hands pull her, turning around to see Narcissa Malfoy yell at her for her son. She shook her head, signaling that she did not know where Draco was, quickly running to find Remus. She stopped when he found him in the Great Hall. Remus, McGonagall, Slughorn, Kingsley each and altogether tried to finish off Voldemort, Lucille spotted Bellatrix fifty yards beside him battling against Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

She tried to step in when she saw the Killing Curse shoot out of Bellatrix's wand, almost so close to hitting Ginny Weasley but backed away when she heard the Weasley matriarch yell at Bellatrix. She left the duel to join Remus, her heart jumped at every curse that sparked out of Voldemort's wand, praying that it would not hit him. Lucille's wand lifted a heavy rubble from the floor and threw it at Voldemort who blasted it into tiny pieces. She felt herself pushed backwards along with Remus, McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley. Voldemort screamed.

She felt a pounding pain on the back of her neck. Remus brought her up to her feet and steadied her with his arm under hers. She looked around and peeked through the crowd to see Harry Potter was _alive_. She held her breath as she watched him and Voldemort encircle one another.

' _Avada Kedavra!'_

' _Expelliarmus!'_

The Elder wand flung into the air, and Harry caught it. She caught sight of Voldemort's falling body, and with that, he was _finally dead_. A roar of victory filled the Great Hall. She felt Remus pull her into him, blood and hot tears on his cheeks as he kissed her. She smiled at him, laughing as she too, teared up. They rejoiced, and she stayed back as Remus went to hug Harry Potter _The Boy Who Lived_.

She felt a tug at her dress and looked down to see Poppy's big eyes wet and mouth open. She bent down to embrace her house elf, not knowing where on earth did she come from. "The grumpy Black house elf Kreacher said to Poppy to fight with him, Miss, Poppy hopes Miss is not angry! Poppy knows Miss always wants Poppy to be safe, but Poppy wants to fight against the Dark Lord, and now he is no more! Will Miss return to the house now? It is very lonely there!" She laughed and pointed her wand at the cuts on Poppy's knee, healing them.

"You're very brave, Poppy. Yes, I will return, but first, I need to tend to some people," She beamed at her Mistress' words and happily skipped away. Lucille approached the wounded and injured, and Remus watched as she tended to them with concentration.

He heard Luna Lovegood yell something about a Blibbering Humdinger and everyone turned to see where she pointed at, but Remus' eyes caught sight of an escaping Harry, who quickly glanced at him and waved to him before he disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak. He laughed and smiled, and in a split second he saw them, _James, Lily, Sirius_ , behind Harry, waving at Remus, smiling, and disappear quickly as they appeared. He felt his heart soar at the sight of them, so _happy_ and _in peace_. He cried happy tears and felt a familiar touch on his cheek. He looked down at her brown eyes and loving face that was filled with joy and exhaustion. "Will you marry me?" He softly asked her.

She beamed at him in reply. "If you can keep up with me, I will," and with that she sped off, laughing. He ran in pursuit of her, laughing along in their chase. They were like playful wolves, teasing and yelping as he caught her. He kissed her, the sun showered them with its light. _Love and light_ , that would be the only world Remus Lupin will come to know of from now on with his bride.

o

They laid together on the soft wool rug, synchronized in breath, bodies as One. The soft flames crackled in the fireplace behind them, warming them in the December cold. He played with a strand of her hair, never had he felt this much joy fill his entire being since Voldemort's demise in the Battle at Hogwarts. Seven months he had spent with her travelling across the East Indies. She wanted to expand her Healing knowledge, _there is magic beyond what we know of,_ she would always insist, and they had returned with trunks of books and journals and smuggled plants and herbs into London, which he highly did not approve of but because he was a Marauder, agreed with the mischievous deed anyway.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had officiated their marriage soon as they returned to London. The excited bride and groom had sent the new Minister of Magic a howler requesting him to officiate them as husband and wife, almost causing a chaotic panic amongst the Auror Security when the howler burst into Lucille's squeals of happiness at the announcement. The couple had invited a select few guests, and although Lucille had called for the Malfoys since she did not have any friends, only Draco showed up, his eyes never leaving Hermione Granger's. They married under a starry night in the garden of the Shafiq Manor, beaming at their guests and each other.

He had lived with her in the manor for over a month now, surprised to be deemed the Master of the House by an enthusiastic Poppy as she showed him around, and though he did not care for the history of the pureblood lineage whose portraits graced the walls and looked at him in utter contempt, Lucille had removed them all and replaced with muggle paintings she collected. She only kept her parents' portrait propped up in the living room, her mother's kind eyes and father's proud face beaming at her and Remus when she introduced him to the animated subjects on the wall. They approved of him, and her father once commented that he change out of his shabby and patchy clothes into something for fitting for a Master of Shafiq Manor. When he tried to wear the clothes Poppy had given to him as instructed by Lucille's father, Lucille had laughed at the sight of him, "You look absolutely terrible, Remus, I really do not fancy you looking like Lucius Malfoy!" So, she instead gave him more Remus-esque clothes to wear, form fitting to complement his muscular build and yet give him a prestigious appearance.

He found his favourite places in the manor were the library that occupied almost two floors. Lucille had dedicated the top floor entirely for him to turn into his own private study and have his personal collection of books arranged there. She spent most time in the nursery that she had rebuilt when it was previously destroyed by the Death Eaters. Her nursery was attached to her own laboratory. They spent much time together in the garden, which Lucille and Poppy had restored and brought back life to her mother's favourite carnations. She even planted Lilies in memory of Lily Potter for Remus. Lucille had taken Poppy as her assistant, even teaching her how to make healing potions. She had hired for Remus his own house elf named Fido, ignoring Remus' protests. _If you don't want to treat him as a servant, then treat him as your assistant,_ she had suggested. Once, he tried to tie Remus' shoe laces but cried and banged his head on the door when Remus objected. Remus had to counsel him, saying that instead of doing menial tasks for him, he would very much be more helpful in the library. Fido followed him around the library and helped to take down his notes in his studies. Eventually, the house elf became the manor's librarian, much to Lucille's glee.

Following the war, Lucille and Remus had tried to work with Shacklebolt in repealing the anti-werewolf legislation that was previously billed by Umbridge. Remus was awarded First Class Order of Merlin, the first werewolf to ever be accorded such honour. He had worn the handsome gold medal that hung from a green coloured ribbon proudly around his neck and refused to take it off for weeks even as Lucille begged him. _I can't bloody look at Merlin's face beaming from your neck when you make love to me, Remus!_ She had argued laughingly.

As they laid on the soft woolen rug, he ran kisses on her shoulder. "Kingsley has got his hands full as Minister, doesn't he?" She commented, tickled by his lips.

"Yes, a lot of laws need to be repealed, amended, demolished. He has asked me to be the head for the Beast Division in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." She quickly turned to face him, surprised with her mouth wide open.

"That's fantastic! Oh, Remus!" She kissed him, "You did agree to it, didn't you, oh tell me you did!"

He nodded, smiling back at her. She flung her arms around him in excitement. She knew that because of his condition Remus Lupin only ever held low-grade jobs so the offer is of extreme significance for the both of them. Lucille, never having gone to school and was self-taught her whole life, decided to dedicate her life as a freelance Healer at St. Mungos, spending her other time compiling her findings and knowledge on a book she was working with Professor Helbert Spleen on the subject of health and healing.

She rested her head on his chest, both of them smiling at how much has changed since they came across each other. At full moon, he still undergone the same agony of the transformations and would still feel beaten up by his condition, worried and doubtful of his own self and whether he and Lucille could ever live a normal life as wizard and witch. _What makes you think nothing about us is normal, Remus? Don't we love as wizards and witches? As people do?_ She had said one day when he expressed his self-doubts.

He would go through days finding himself stepping back into the darkness, as though he was pushed off a cliff into the depths of depression by his own conflict of thoughts, but Lucille was always there to grab him by his hands before he fell, reassuring him that she would never let him go. _If you ever fall, Remus, imagine me as the sea, and fall into me_ , she softly said to him before.

His whole life, he tried to carry people with him, and he tried so hard to be accepted and belong, but with Lucille he did not even have to do that. Being with her felt natural, it felt like breathing. As they laid bare, he traced the markings on the back of her neck where Moony had bit her and claimed her as his mate on their wedding night. He snuggled his head in her hair, breathing deeply the scent of earth and trees. She was a forest and Moony ran freely in that forest, making it his own home.


End file.
